Twisted Devotion
by Nocturnias
Summary: 10/Martha. While visiting a vacation spot, events put the Doctor and Martha to the ultimate test of their friendship, changing their lives forever. The BBC owns Dr. Who, this is a work of not-for-profit fanfiction.
1. Chapter 1

_There._

She was pretty enough to warrant attention, though not so gorgeous that every man in the room was after her. She was by herself in a corner.

It was an easy shot. Her head snapped up, eyes wide. She looked around for a moment, and then looked down at her drink. She was obviously confused. But then, she had no idea of what had just happened to her.

Now to find her a mate.

Ah. A likely target. Sipping a drink at the bar, looking relaxed. A decent looking specimen by the planet's standards of beauty. And no woman by his side, only strangers.

Careful. There were others. The hit had to be precise. Slowly, now. Slowly…

_Yes._

The man blinked, jerking slightly in his chair as though he'd been struck by something. Which, of course, he had. He just didn't realize it.

He smiled at the girl. She glanced down, then smiled back. He got another drink, spoke a few more words to the bartender, and walked towards her. He sat next to her. They talked for a while. They danced. And laughed. And finally kissed.

The kissing went on for a bit. He whispered something to her. She nodded. They both stood up and headed for the door.

_Perfect._

They left holding hands. Time to follow them. They were probably going to a hotel, or her home, or his. Or they thought they were. They wouldn't make it that long. Not with what was in their bodies.

Sure enough, after a few minutes, they detoured into an alley. Now it was a waiting game, guarding them and giving them time to consummate the desire. Then on to claim the prize.

Right now, they were locked in the throes of an ecstasy they had never felt before, and would never feel again.

But by the time they knew something was wrong, it would be too late.

"We're going… where?"

The Doctor's head jerked up slightly from twiddling TARDIS controls. "Rhapsora. Comes from the word rhapsody. Humans colonized it, oh, around 4380 I think. Lovely spot. Nice blend of old and modern."

"Right." Martha eyed him carefully. "And it's what kind of place again?"

"A pleasure world," he answered absently, glasses slipping slightly down his nose as he peered closely at a dial. "Like a vacation getaway."

"Ah." She looked down, fingers smoothing her wrinkle-free trousers. She pursed her lips together slightly. "And… why are we going there again?"

Now she had his full attention. "Because I never took you anywhere that didn't involve danger, pain or death," he said quietly. "I always wanted to. It just… never worked out that way. And I want to now."

"Right," she said again, silently cursing herself for sounding so skittish. This was the Doctor, for goodness sake, and she was engaged. He just wanted to do something nice for her, try and make up for all the other things that had gone on. And truth be told, it would be nice to go relax for a bit. Sun, sand, fizzy drinks with strange names… she worked hard. She deserved a break. And it would give her a chance to spend time with him. Who knew when that might happen again.

So she smiled. "Sounds great."

He grinned at her. "That's the Martha I know!"

She laughed. When he had that look she couldn't help it. Some things would never change… "And Jack doesn't want to go?"

He shook his head. "After what happened he wants to spend time with Gwen and Ianto," he said.

"So… just us, then," Martha said.

He nodded. "Yeah. Just us." He made one final adjustment then looked her straight in the eyes. "Ready?"

She nodded, still unable to shake the slight feeling of unease, and just as unable to figure out why she had it to begin with.


	2. Chapter 2

WARNING: this story contains mild language and non-graphic, but non-consensual sex in a later chapter. Reviews welcomed and appreciated.

"Welcome to Rhapsora, Martha Jones!"

Martha's breath caught in her throat.

The sky was deep violet. An emerald green sun sparkled through pink clouds. The pearlescent streets were lined with small shops and the smells were exotic and made her mouth water. In the distance she could just make out silver water lapping against pale blue sand. There were sights and sounds every way she turned and it was almost too amazing to take in.

"Doctor, it's incredible!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah, I like it," he said casually. "I never seem to get here much though."

She nodded, turning to look at him. "Thank you for this," she said softly.

"Well, it's the least I could do," he drawled. "Everyone deserves a holiday now and then, right?"

"Of course!" she replied. "So… what are we doing first?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Whatever you like. It's your holiday. I'm just here to keep you company."

"My companion?" she couldn't resist asking.

She finally understood why she'd been a bit uneasy about taking this trip with him when he smiled in the way that used to melt her heart.

Apparently, it still did.

She wasn't going to let that stop her, though. She was Doctor Martha Jones, member of UNIT, who had a wonderful fiancé waiting for her. Somewhere in Africa. Who she'd get to see again… sometime soon. She shook her head to stop the thoughts. There was nothing between her and the Doctor. Never would be. They were friends, and she was over him. End of discussion.

She smiled back. "Last one to the beach buys dinner!"

"I let you win."

"You bloody well did not!" Martha laughed.

"Of course I did. With my superior respiratory system, I could've beaten you easily."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "You're a sore loser, Doctor."

"You go right on thinking that," he sniffed.

She grinned. "I'm having a great time here."

"I know," he agreed. "That's what, your third drink?"

"Fourth, but who's counting? Other than you, apparently," she added, taking a sip from her frosted glass. The sweet tangy flavor of pomegranates and chocolate hit her tongue and sent a delicious shiver through her taste buds.

"In fairness, I'm counting mine too," he said, holding up his own glass and taking a long swallow. "I hadn't realized how much I miss Banana Daiquiris."

"And how much **have** you missed them?" Martha asked.

"So far, about five daiquiris' worth," he answered with an impish grin.

"Not had them in a while?"

His face darkened, and she knew that somehow she'd asked a bad question. Before she could apologize he said: "no, not in a while."

She nodded. "Same for me with these Persephone's Kisses."

He smiled. "And now here we are, being lushes on the beach."

"If only Tom could see me now," she laughed. "He thinks I need to have more fun: that I work too much."

"Do you?" the Doctor asked.

Martha tilted her head, considering the question. "I don't think so. I mean, it's just been a very busy time right now."

"You're a member of UNIT," he said quietly. "It's always going to be busy."

She nodded. "I guess so."

He looked her in the eye. "Make sure you make time for what's important, Martha," he said. "Don't have regrets. Do your job, but live your life."

"Handing out advice now?" she teased.

"I just don't want anyone else making my mistakes," he said softly.

She felt her heart thud at the look on his face. Before she could ask him what he meant, he finished his drink and jumped up. "Come on. Time for a walk."

"I thought this was **my** vacation," she said.

"It is. But aren't you hungry?"

"Yeah, I am," she realized with a start.

"There's a nice row of restaurants about half a mile from here."

She stood and stretched, then looked at him. "Doctor, how did you know I was hungry?"

He gave her "the look" again. "I heard your stomach grumbling."

"Oh," she said faintly. "I hadn't quite realized it yet."

"Persephone's Kisses will do that to you," he smirked.

Martha playfully pushed him, and they walked down the beach.

_She watched them as they made their way along the sand. They weren't like the others, she could tell. Especially the male. He wasn't anything she'd ever found before, which meant the result would be extraordinary. She had to have him._

_The female was human, but something wasn't right about her. She didn't belong. She wasn't from this time. Therefore she was special as well. They were a perfect combination._

_She was debating on whether to hit them now when the male suddenly stopped and turned his head, scanning the beach. _

"_What's wrong, Doctor?" the woman asked._

_He knew, she realized. Somehow this one knew. Even though he couldn't see her, he sensed something._

_She would wait until later, a time when there were more distractions. She had a reading on the female: it would suffice. She pressed the button and disappeared._

"Doctor?" Martha repeated. "What's the matter?"

The Doctor shook his head. "Nothing. For a second there I thought I felt… it's nothing," he finished. "Too many drinks, my mind is playing tricks on me."

Martha clucked her tongue. "And you said I was bad…"

He raised his eyebrows. "You are. Come on, let's eat!"


	3. Chapter 3

Hours later the Doctor flashed his psychic paper at a security guard and ushered Martha through the red wooden door of Club Valhalla. She had laughed when he told her earlier that's where they were going for the evening. She hadn't really expected him agree so easily when she'd requested a hot spot. He'd even put on a different suit: grey with silver pinstripes. The shoes, he'd informed her, were staying.

Now here they were, making their way to a bar that seemed to stretch the entire length of the building. Martha caught a glimpse of herself in a large ornate mirror on the wall and admired the way the new red dress looked on her. She didn't usually have cause to wear that type of clothes. She and Tom went out, but usually to dinner or to a pub with friends. It had been a long time since she'd put on something sexy and fun. She decided that was going to change when she got back.

She glanced up when she felt the Doctor squeeze her hand. "Sorry, what?"

"I said you're preening like a peacock," he said with a smile.

She blushed a bit. "Yeah, I guess I am. Sorry. I don't get to do this often."

He nodded. "You do look nice," he told her. "But if we could stop blocking the hallway?"

"Oh!" She exclaimed, letting the Doctor guide her away. "You don't look so bad yourself," she told him.

"I know," he grinned.

They made their way to the bar and managed to find some empty seats. The music was perfect: not too loud, not too strange. A good ambient techno beat. The Doctor ordered their drinks, then sat back with a small sigh and looked around.

"It's just like I remembered it," he said, sounding pleased.

Martha's eyes widened. "You've been here before?"

"Of course I have. That's how I knew it would be a great place."

"When's the last time you were here?" she asked, taking her drink as he handed it to her.

He took a sip of whatever concoction he'd ordered. "A few years."

Martha blew bubbles into her glass as she laughed. "A few years? This place could've closed down for all you knew!"

"What, a place like this? Never!" he answered. "It's won 'Best Club' for seven years!"

"Ok, ok," Martha said. "How I ever could've doubted you I don't know."

"Neither do I, actually," he sniffed.

She smiled and lightly touched his arm as a new song came on. "I'll make it up to you with a dance."

He didn't pull away from her physically, but she felt him stiffen as he sat his drink down. "I don't dance," he said quietly.

"What, never? Come on, just one-"

"No."

She pulled her hand away. "I thought you said whatever I wanted to do…"

"Not that," he said sharply, stepping back. "Not that."

She realized that she'd accidentally hit another nerve and exhaled loudly. "Ok, sorry. Forget it."

An awkward silence fell between them. The Doctor sighed. It wasn't Martha's fault. She didn't know. "Tell you what, **I** will make it up to **you** by ordering you the most spectacularly sinful dessert you've ever touched a spoon to," he said with a smile.

She eyed him, rather warily he thought, and he smiled even more, moving closer to her. '_Please, Martha,' _the smile said. _'I know I wasn't fair just now. Let me do something nice and we can go on and forget it ever happened.'_

That went on a lot with him, she realized. Well, she didn't want to feel like crap the whole night. "Sounds good," she said.

His eyes lit up. "Wait right there while I go to the food end. I promise you, you're going to love this!" And he dashed off.

Martha shook her head and sipped her drink, wondering for the thousandth time if he'd ever really let her in.

_Amazing. They were in the club. This would greatly simplify matters. _

_She worked her way through the building, watching carefully. The music, lights, people and heat should be all she needed. It provided a lot of stimulus and distraction. _

_She saw the female sitting alone, drinking. She looked pensive. She pressed against her mind; gently, in case she could feel it. But she showed no signs of awareness. She pressed deeper._

_So. She had loved the male. But he had not loved her in return. And she still had feelings for him, which she didn't want. And she was sad that he had refused to dance with her. _

_She withdrew from her surface thoughts. There was no need to go further. She had all she needed to know. Now she had to find the male._

_She almost chuckled to herself. In a twisted way, she was going to be the female's genie, and she didn't even know it. _


	4. Chapter 4

"And I'll give you  
These motions of emotion...  
And I'll take you  
Like a stormy ocean...  
And I'll have you  
With this twisted devotion...

It's not enough  
I NEED MORE"

Johnny Hollow, "Dark Things"

The Doctor stood at the food court, absently tugging on a thread on the sleeve on his jacket. A young woman clad in a hot pink spandex bikini leaned over the counter, offering him a good view of breasts that a human male would've drooled over. "What can I get you?" she asked throatily, moving a little closer.

The Doctor looked up from the thread. "Oh, yes, a Chocolate Volcano, please, with two spoons," he said with a smile.

The woman blinked. She wasn't used to not being stared at, and didn't know if she was offended or pleased. "Coming right up," she said, giving him a curious glance and moving away.

While he waited, the Doctor did some mental configurations to the TARDIS, hummed along to the chorus of a song, and kicked himself a bit for his reaction to Martha's request for a dance.

All right, so he hadn't danced with anyone since Rose. Rose was gone. She had the other Him. All by his decision, mind. He knew it needed to be that way. And what regrets he sometimes felt were balanced by that knowledge. What was he going to do, stay in the "off" position for the rest of his lives? Nah. That wouldn't work. But if he wasn't careful he was going to lose everyone. Either by their sacrifices or driving them away. Or in Martha's case, both.

"Here you go, sweetie," the woman said, placing the dish near him. "Three ix, please."

The Doctor paid, murmured a "thank you" and headed back to Martha.

_The male was going back with something to eat. Something they were going to share. This was good._

_She considered trying to read the male's thoughts, but something warned her not to. If she pushed, this one might be able to push back and everything would be ruined. She'd come too far to let that happen._

_She would wait until they were finished. Then she would act._

"Hot from the kitchen, one Chocolate Volcano," the Doctor beamed, putting the dish between him and Martha.

Martha's eyes widened at the sight of the tower of chocolate cake topped with frosting, fudge and cream. "Doctor, that's not a dessert, it's chocolate heaven!"

"Well, close enough," he said with an enigmatic grin, filling a spoon and putting it in Martha's mouth. After she chewed and moaned, his grin widened and he took a spoonful himself. Martha grabbed the other spoon and scooped up more. "You weren't kidding about this!"

"I would never kid about dessert," the Doctor said, licking cream off his upper lip.

They continued eating with gusto, finishing every drop. The Doctor wiped his chin and stood up. "I'll take this to the disposal slot, back in a jiff."

Martha watched him go with a smile. Sometimes he was such a little boy, that old Time Lord.

She turned back to her drink…

_She fired. A clean hit._

_The female looked up and around, confused. Then she shook her head and went back to her drink. She could see the change in her. Slight, subtle, for now. But not for long._

_The male was returning. She raised her hand and fired again._

_Another hit._

_The male whipped back as though he'd been struck. His eyes widened nearly twice their size and he looked around. His hand touched his face. His expression changed. Darkened. His breathing increased. It was affecting him faster than usual, faster than the female. And he knew something was happening. _

_She would have to watch them carefully and not lose them. _

_The male was nearly to the female now. The game was about to begin._


	5. Chapter 5

Martha was trying to figure out why exactly he might have been so upset earlier when the Doctor's hand grasped her arm. "Doctor, what–"

"Come on," he said in a low voice.

She barely had time to stand up before the Doctor was dragging her through the club. "Doctor, what are you doing?"

He stopped at a corner of the dance floor, pulling Martha to him. "Dancing."

She felt confused in more ways than she could even begin to think about sorting out. "But you said…"

"Never mind what I said." The music seemed to sway in Martha's mind. Or maybe it was just her body, which was happily moving along with his. He was so hot. Literally. He felt feverish to her, even for a Time Lord. His eyes had a wild glitter to them that excited and scared her.

He didn't speak, just pressed her close, moving with a fluid grace she'd suspected he'd have if he danced, but never thought she'd get to see. Part of her wanted to stay that way forever, but she knew something wasn't right. And he was showing no signs of putting it to an end, and that worried her more than anything else.

She struggled to think, to move back from him when all she wanted to do was be closer. "Doctor, I don't think this is a good idea…"

"Why not?" he asked, the burn in his voice as well as his body. He spun her around and pulled her hard against him. She gasped as she felt the evidence of his arousal against her hip. "This was **your** idea, Martha. Didn't you want to dance?"

"I did, but—"

"But what? I'm dancing, aren't I?" His face was so close to hers she could smell heat and chocolate on his breath. "Isn't this what you wanted?" He pulled her even closer, his lips grazing her ear as he ground his hips into hers, and she gasped as her knees went weak. "Isn't this what you've **always** wanted?"

The emotional slap was an ice shower that cooled down her raging feelings enough to enable her to jerk away from him. "You arrogant bastard," she said angrily.

He looked as upset and stunned as she felt, raising a hand to his cheek as though she had struck him. "Martha… I'm so sorry. I'm really sorry. I didn't mean it." He gulped. "Something is wrong with me. I feel…"

She frowned. "Stimulated? Aroused? Like you'd had a kind of combination aphrodisiac and adrenaline shot?"

"Yeah, exactly." His frown matched hers. "How did you know?"

"Because I'm starting to feel that way now, too," she told him uneasily. "But apparently not as strongly as you..."

His head jerked up, his eyes open wide, staring at something Martha couldn't see and wasn't even sure if he could. Then he looked at her, and she saw the fear.

"We need to go," he said through gritted teeth. "We need to go NOW."

She swallowed hard, nodded. His hand was like steel on her arm as he led her through the crowd and out the door. Only then did she speak again. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know yet," he whispered. "But we have to get to the TARDIS."

She hurried her step to keep up with him. His fingers fumbled with the key: she saw his hand tremble as he opened the door and pushed them both inside, closing the door behind them.

"Doctor—"

Her words were lost as he pulled her against him and caught her mouth in a kiss.

Martha felt her world dissolve. It was like nothing she'd experienced before. No kiss had ever done this. Something was very wrong with him. And her. She moved back, her breathing ragged.

"Doctor, what the hell are you doing?" she gasped.

He looked equally shaken, breathing hard, eyes wide. "Something happened in there," he said.

"I know that, Doctor, so what do we do?" she asked, feeling the fear she'd seen in him welling up inside her.

"We-" he broke off, wincing. He moved against her. She tried to back up but he wrapped her in his arms. "Doctor you're really scaring me," she whispered, trying to ignore how her body wanted to stay where it was and ignore her brain's commands.

"I'm scaring myself," he said, and the desire in his voice made Martha shiver.

She started to speak but he silenced her with another kiss, harder and hungrier than before. She tried to turn her head but he followed her, his lips finding hers again. She heard him moan and the sound inflamed her even as it chilled her: she'd never heard him make a sound like that.

The Doctor managed to tear his mouth from hers, even as it literally made him ache to do it. This had to stop. He couldn't—she couldn't—they couldn't—

Oh, but he wanted to. He wanted her with a hunger he'd never felt. He knew they'd been drugged somehow. But that fact didn't make the pain subside. If anything, it made it worse.

"I can't stop myself," he told her. "Martha, it hurts…"

"Oh, my God," she cried. "No. No, not like this, I'd rather die first…"

"Martha!" he shouted, pain pushing the desire away for a moment. His expression changed from hungry to hurt. "Please don't say that," he begged. "Please. I can't bear that…"

"It's not real!" she sobbed, tears stinging her eyes even as her fingers raked through his hair. "It's a lie. Someone's done this to us, you don't really want me, you never have…" she broke off as his eyes glittered.

He closed his eyes against her words, but it was the truth. When he'd met her the memory of Rose had been there. And even when Rose was gone and he accepted that, it had been too late to take Martha out of the box he'd put her in. Now, somewhere, someone had taken that from him, from her: taken their choice, their dignity, and the sacrament of their friendship. And when he got hold of that someone… he wasn't going to be nice.

"I'm sorry," Martha murmured.

He shook his head. "No, I am," he said roughly. As he spoke his hands moved through no volition of his own to cup Martha's breasts. She sighed and he groaned, hating the false desire mixed with helplessness. "Martha… I can't…"

"Doctor…"

"Make me stop!" he said through gritted teeth, eyes opening again, staring at his shaking hands.

"In case you hadn't noticed, I can't make myself stop!" she snapped, trembling fingers resting on his shoulders. "How the hell do you expect me to make you stop?"

A wave of pain went through Martha, and she cried out from it. "It hurts," she said, echoing his earlier words. She understood now what he'd meant. Was that how this worked? It didn't seem like an aphrodisiac to her. It seemed like something designed to make people have sex whether they wanted to or not. They both shuddered from it at the same time.

He pressed her against the console, and she felt the hardness of his desire again. He was tearing at her clothes with his hands, at her mouth with his lips. Her head ached when she tried to think. The only thing that made her feel better was touching him. Mindlessly she pulled his shirt, hearing the buttons pop like tiny fireworks, and there was his skin smooth and cool and pale like living stone and all she wanted was for it to extinguish the agony of the heat she felt.

They stripped themselves and each other with primal lust, breathing ragged, not speaking because words were now useless things. He pressed her down onto the floor as her legs wrapped around his waist. As he moved in her she slid her body in synch with his. When she came, it was with a loud cry into the slickness of his shoulder. A moment later he shuddered, saying her name in a hoarse whisper as he emptied himself into her. He collapsed on top of her, and they lay together in silence for a long time, too dazed and exhausted to do anything else.

Then the dam of reality burst.


	6. Chapter 6

Martha leaped up, pushing him off her as she did, grabbing her dress.

"Martha, what are you doing?" The Doctor asked uneasily.

"I can't stay here," she said, furious at the tears that were trying to form. "This is… I need to be alone…"

The Doctor got to his feet. "Martha, don't. We need to talk about this."

She glared at him while pulling her dress down, ignoring her underwear. "Talk? You want to talk about this? That's rich, coming from you."

"Martha, listen to me. Whoever did this had a reason. If you go out there you'll be in danger."

"And I'm not in danger if I stay here?" she scoffed.

He looked stricken. "I have never purposely hurt you."

She sighed. "No, you haven't." She put on her shoes and watched as he gathered up his own clothes. He was so pale. And freckled. Wiry. No fat, no muscle. She'd never thought about it before, never thought she would see him naked to have reason to.

"I should've been careful what I wished for," she whispered without thinking.

He winced. "This isn't your fault."

"No, but it's somebody's, like you said. And right now all I want is to give them a good punch," she said angrily.

He continued dressing, watching her. "We need a plan. One that doesn't involve you just running away and putting yourself at risk. Let me think…"

"How can we make a plan when we don't even know who did it, or why?" she cried, exasperated. Then it hit her and she felt herself shaking. "Oh, no. It can't be…"

"Martha?" he took hold of her upper arms, eyes searching hers.

"Can a Time Lord impregnate a Human?" she asked tightly.

He looked as stunned as she felt. "Can you?" she demanded.

He turned pale and his fingers slid limply down her skin. "Yes."

The shaking got worse. Martha couldn't think any more. She could only feel rage.

"You bastard!" she screamed, pulling away from the Doctor and running towards the TARDIS door.

"Martha!" the Doctor shouted, going after her.

She yanked the door open, blind to the doctor and everything except her fury. "You utterly deplorable bastard!" she shouted as she opened the door and stepped outside.

The Doctor stumbled, twisting his foot in his half on, half off shoe. He kicked it off and moved after her again. "Martha, stop!"

He reached out a hand to grab her arm…

And felt her body dissolve under his fingers.

"No, no, no…"

He tore at his hair in frustration, looking every which way and a few ways humans couldn't see. No Martha. "All right," he said to himself, "come on, now…"

He went back in the TARDIS, closing the door behind him, flipping switches and rummaging in a box on a shelf under the console. Part of his mind was focused on the task at hand: finding something to track Martha with. The other part was having a fit.

He'd had a very bad suspicion as to what it had all been about the moment his sanity came back. After all, if it had been purely a sex crime, the perpetrator would've wanted to watch. No, as a perversion it had too many holes in it.

And then he'd felt it. In a way not even a female could at that stage, he'd **felt** it. His sperm. Martha's egg. Together and fertile. She was pregnant. He'd wanted to calm her down first, talk to her. But then she figured it out herself. Well, as Jack had once told him, he didn't pick them stupid.

His jaw clenched as he looked around more. Martha was carrying their future child, and was in danger of losing the egg. If he was right, and he usually was, she'd been taken somewhere for it to be harvested. And he couldn't let that happen. Whatever came out of it, it was his and Martha's decision to make. Human and Time Lord, not—

He almost dropped the box.

No longer the last of the Time Lords.

He found the alpha tracker and ran outside, pressing buttons and scanning. No, no, no… yes! There it was. One particle signature to guide his way, but it was fading. He had to hurry. He entered a stream of coordinates, made sure he had the sonic screwdriver, and cast a longing glance at the TARDIS.

"I **hate** traveling this way," he muttered, and pressed one last button.

"What are you doing?"

Martha knew her voice was bordering on hysterical, but didn't care. She was strapped to some version on an exam table, watching in anger and fear as a being that resembled a bipedal cat took readings on her.

Her captor gave no reply, just continued scanning. Martha looked at the equipment, but it was impossible to understand. It approached her with a small metal cylinder.

"No, no, don't you dare!" she shouted, struggling. The creature pressed the metal to her arm. She felt sleepy.

"No," she whispered in agony as she felt her grip on consciousness fading. "No, please… Doctor…"

The Doctor materialized just in time to see a K'iran carefully place a container in a medical transport box as Martha slept on an exam table.

He launched himself in a fury, the momentum and the surprise element knocking the K'iran down. The Doctor grabbed it by the shoulders, shaking it fiercely. "How long have you been doing this?" he shouted. "How long? How many lives have you stolen?"

It looked at him. "Not stealing," it answered in a female purr. "Preserving."

"Preserving? Preserving for what? You're forcing this on other beings and stealing their eggs for what?"

"For the end time. So that there will be one of everything possible so life can continue."

His brows knitted together." An egg bank for the end of the universe?"

"Everything can live this way."

"And what about the mothers? What are you doing to them?" he asked tightly. Had Martha been given something that was ending her life at that very moment?

"Erasing the memories and letting them go. No one gets hurt."

The Doctor pulled her up. She twisted in his grasp but he'd anticipated it and held fast. "It doesn't matter if your motives are good, this is wrong," he said flatly. "And they most certainly DO get hurt!"

"Keeping life safe is wrong?"

"Doing it this way, yes," he said angrily.

"I do not agree."

"Well then we have a bit of a problem, don't we?" he retorted.

"No," she said. She jerked and touched a bracelet on her arm with her tail and disappeared.

"Augh! I hate, **hate** teleporters!" he yelled.

"Doctor…"

He turned. Martha was awake and staring at him. He swallowed hard, glancing at the metal case that held their offspring. Then he walked over to her and smiled. "Hello, Martha Jones."

"Thanks for the rescue," she said as he released her. She sat up, rubbing her arm, lowering her legs slowly off the side.

"You all right?" He searched her face. Did she remember everything?

She nodded. "Yeah, but… Doctor…"

Her look said it all. "I know," he said softly.

She gazed over on the table. "It's… in there?"

He nodded.

Martha swallowed hard. "What do we do?"

"First we put it in a safer place. Then we put a stop to that K'iran's plans."

"Which are?"

He sighed. "She—maybe more for all I know—is collecting one of every possible combination to be found. Saving the eggs somewhere, probably somewhere here, wherever here is. So that everything has a chance to reproduce."

"Even a Time Lord," Martha said softly.

He looked down with another sigh. "It's not how I'd have wanted it."

"Because it's me," she said.

His eyes jerked up sharply to meet hers. "Because of the way it happened," he answered. "You'd be a brilliant mother, Martha."

She looked down, not sure how to answer that. "But right now I need to take care of that harvesting operation," he said.

"Without me?" she asked, incredulous.

He hesitated. "You just had a major shock, Martha. I'd feel better if you were in the TARDIS."

"What? Are you daft? What if you need my help?" She frowned. "Oh, no, mister: you are NOT pulling any "in the kitchen" crap with me. I'm not suddenly made of china!"

"No, you're not," he replied quietly. "But you have something equally important to look after." He glanced at the egg container.

"Never thought I'd see you all protective," she said.

"Before now I only had myself to consider. Or an adult." He frowned. "It's… strange… thinking like a father…"

He gazed at her. "Martha. Please. For me. Go to the TARDIS with the egg. You can monitor me from there. If I need help, you'll know it. But don't come out otherwise."

"Doctor…"

"Please." It was the closest thing to begging her she'd ever heard.

She sighed. "All right. But don't you dare trick me and send me off to some day spa while you're in danger. Swear?"

"I swear."

"All right."

She picked up the container while he adjusted his teleporter. He put his arms around her and pressed a button. She opened her eyes to see them standing in front of the TARDIS.

The next few hours were some of the most difficult of Martha's life.

She had assumed he could just take the TARDIS to wherever they had been, but it turned out he could only get a signal outside it. She kept in contact with the Doctor through a communication device he put on before going back. It also allowed her to monitor his vital signs. Handy device, it was. She could use those to check on patients at home. If, of course, it was common technology on Earth, which it wasn't.

While that was going on, in between almost running after him a few times (like when he got captured by some K'iran for about five minutes) she thought about the egg sitting in its cryogenic container. It could easily be implanted back into her. Or it could sit safe in its metal box for eternity. Or it could be implanted into someone else. Or…

That was the problem. There were too many variables. Which meant a decision had to be made. For both of them as well as that future Human/ Time Lord combo. And Martha Jones was at a loss.

The fact that it had happened under the wrong conditions didn't help matters. They were no happy couple deeply in love. The Doctor loved her, she knew that. But not that way. And despite still feeling some attraction to him, she wasn't sure exactly how she felt about him now. She was even less sure of how he felt about them having a baby. Did he want it? Did he want to let sleeping eggs lie? If she had the baby, what then? Would she stay on Earth, or with him? What about her career? What about him traipsing all over the universe, putting himself in danger? Surely he'd never want to give that up, for anything…

But she remembered the Master, and how the Doctor would have given all that up to take care of him. And Jenny, the Doctor's daughter: a woman/child formed from him without his consent but whom he had still wanted to be with. Both Time Lords. Both dead now.

And now here was a third chance for him not to be alone, the last of his kind. And whatever she wanted, whatever he wanted, neither of their lives could be the same.

"Fuck," she whispered

It wasn't as though she was opposed to having a kid. She'd thought about it, like anyone else. She loved children. She and Tom had…

Fuck, again. Tom. He seemed a world away right now. And he was, actually. Quite a few worlds. How could she have this baby and stay with Tom? How could she even explain it to him? She'd gain a child but lose a fiancé. How wrong was that? Even worse, right now she didn't know how she felt about anyone. Tom, the Doctor, even herself.

But that egg… she could almost hear it calling to her. She was a doctor, sworn to uphold life. To let her child—**their** child—sit in stasis forever…

Scientific curiosity took over for a moment. Would the baby look black? White? Somewhere in between? Would it have his ears? Her mouth? Big eyes? Two hearts? And what about a name? What did Time Lords name their children? Doctor, Master… would it have to be some one word thing that was more a title than a name? She was **not** calling any child of hers "Barrister" or "Chef!"

This was not helping. This was insane. How could she possibly…

"Martha?"

She was pulled out of her thoughts by his voice. "Yeah, sorry, I'm here, what did you say?" she asked.

"I said it's finished. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Ok. Great."

"Oh, and Martha?"

"Yes, Doctor?"

"Have I told you today just how amazing you are?"

She smiled. "No. You haven't."

"Shame on me. Remind me to tell you later."

The smile turned into a laugh. "All right, then!"

She thought. And thought. And when he opened the door of the TARDIS a few minutes later, she still had no idea what she wanted to do.

The Doctor didn't go straight back to Martha. He made some tweaks with the sonic screwdriver and teleported to a planet in the Chronax galaxy. Every planet there had its own time quirk. He chose Chronax Seven, where a minute was more like an hour. When he went back to her, it would, for her, have been the few minutes he told her. For him, it would have been time to think.

The Doctor didn't like not knowing an answer as soon as he had a question. But he'd have had an easier time explaining hopscotch to a Dalek than figuring out what to do next. For starters, what did he want? And then, what would Martha want?

Another Time Lord. A **baby, Human/Time Lord.** That would need to be raised to an adult. That belonged to him and Martha Jones. Whom he loved but was not in love with. Who might or might not be in love with him... though he suspected she still was. Whom he wondered if he could make himself love. Well, he **could** if he really wanted to. Did he? Would she?

He paced in circles, alternately pushing his glasses up his nose and running his fingers through his hair.

Give up traveling until the child was an adult? Travel but stay out of meddling? Settle on Earth for a bit? Let Martha raise the child and him visit? No. That much he knew wouldn't be right. If he did this, it would have to be all the way.

Keep the egg until later? Have the baby now? In five years? Never? It would be a lot easier… but oh, his hearts hurt for that egg, the thought of it just sitting, sterile, alone, when it could become bright, magnificent life…

Would he or she have his eyes? Martha's nose? Be ginger? There was a slight chance for that. It would be his luck: ten bodies, not one of them ginger, and then his child would have glorious curly ginger hair!

A future with another Time Lord in it! Traveling together, teaching him or her about Gallifrey and the Time War, what to do and not do, growing another TARDIS… he felt excitement and fear stir in equal measures.

Of course, Martha might well tell him to shove off no matter what. Whether or not they had the baby, their friendship had been violated and needed healing. How was that going to happen? What if she just wanted to take the egg and go back to Earth?

His hearts squeezed painfully again. No. Not that. Anything but that. He'd beg and use every trick in his book to keep that from happening. Even…

Oh, he could never tell her if he did that. And then it would be a secret kept. He hated keeping secrets. But sometimes he had to, for a greater good. Like Donna. And there were ways around it, like everything else.

He was selfish. He knew that. He'd always told himself his good deeds made up for it, but it didn't change the truth. Stealing the TARDIS all those centuries ago, bringing people along for the ride so he wasn't alone, making decisions like he had the right to do whatever he wanted…

What was it he'd said to Martha on the beach? "Make sure you make time for what's important, Martha," he'd said. "Don't have regrets."

"If I don't have time, who does?" he asked himself.

And maybe, just maybe, it was time for him to grow up a bit.

When he opened the door of the TARDIS a few minutes later, he knew what he wanted to do.

Martha didn't have a chance to say a word when he came in. He went straight to her and enfolded her in a hug that was warmth and relief and pure Doctor happiness. She hugged him back, relieved herself to feel him alive and unharmed under her hands. After a minute of that he stepped back and looked at her. "All right?" he asked, pushing up his glasses while he studied her.

She nodded. What to say to him. How to say it. "Doctor…"

He gently pressed a finger to her lips. "I know you want to talk. And I agree."

She raised her eyebrows. "You do?"

"Yes. But I think before either of us says anything about it, we should go on a vacation."

She laughed. She couldn't help it. "A what? Doctor, have you lost your senses?"

"Not at all,' he replied. At her skeptical look, he added: "Please, hear me out."

Martha narrowed her eyes. He was the Doctor, but there was something… different. He wasn't acting quite like his usual breezy self. There was a new intensity in him, something serious behind the smile.

_Good grief, Martha, could it, oh, possibly be because you effectively have a baby sitting in a box over there as a result of getting slipped a mickey? _she asked herself wryly._ How is he supposed to be acting? Or me, for that matter? After what's just happened… _

She held back a tear at the memory. Now that the danger was over, she felt exhausted and overwhelmed and wanted to go hide and he wanted to do what?

He had that little boy smile, the one she'd never been able to resist. She sighed and folded her arms. "Go on, then."

"I know we need to talk about… what happened," he told her. "But now is not the time to do it. We've been dealt a serious blow to our friendship. One that I want to heal before we do anything else."

She blinked. "Who are you?"

He blinked back. "I'm the Doctor."

"You've never talked like this before," she said.

His gaze was inscrutable. "Nothing like this has ever happened before."

"But… I don't know…"

"If you leave now, you might never come back," he said softly.

She shook her head. "No, you're wrong there…"

"Am I?" he asked. He reached over and took one of her hands. "Could you promise me that?"

She looked at their fingers, feeling a great weight on her. "I.."

He released her hand and moved behind her. She felt his long, slim fingers on her shoulders, gently massaging the knots, and she sighed again, only this time in pleasure. He'd never touched her before, except to hug her. He couldn't have. She hadn't been touched in a while and it was heaven. But to stay with him? Was he right, that if she left now she might never come back? No, she couldn't do that…

He moved to stand in front of her, fingers moving to her temples, eliciting a tiny moan from her. "We could visit museums," he whispered. "Take long walks through fields of flowers. Eat pizza standing on top of a volcano."

"That sounds a bit dangerous, mister!"

"A dormant one, Martha, a dormant one!" he exclaimed.

"Never know with you," she retorted.

He smiled, then the smile faded and he looked at her so intensely she flushed under his gaze. "Please stay, Martha."

It was all so much, a thousand voices in her head and over all of them was his silky whispering and she just wanted it to stop…

"All right," she said… and almost stumbled in shock as everything in her head went silent.

Later, as Martha slept, the Doctor made his way through the TARDIS.

Down one corridor, then another, a left, a right, two more lefts and a dozen hallways until he reached his destination.

He pressed his fingers to an ornate panel on a door, and after a second's hesitation the door swung open for him. He cast out with his mind, making sure once more that Martha was asleep, and then slipped soundlessly into the room, door closing behind him.

He blinked, adjusting the light to a soft white. "I really, **really** thought I'd never have to use this, **again**," he said aloud.

The room was silent. The bits of gleaming metal seemed to mock him. He glared, heedless of how ridiculous it seemed. Then he closed his eyes.

_Are you sure? Because once you do this, you can't turn back._

_I know._

He'd felt it the moment he'd stepped back in the TARDIS. He hadn't meant to. Martha had just been projecting so strongly that even though the link was weak he'd felt it. She didn't even know it. But he did. He didn't think he could handle any more. Even a Time Lord wasn't indestructible.

And he'd also known it wouldn't work to do it by half measures. He knew it all. And he'd made his choice with this knowledge. This was the last step before opening the door to that future. It would be a gradual step, a slow step, but it had to be. It couldn't be rushed. And when it was complete, he would be too. Anyone might have told him he was daft and taking a huge risk. But he always gambled, didn't he? This couldn't be any different for him. It wasn't the only way, but it was what she wanted. And oddly enough, so did he.

He opened his eyes, slipped everything on. Planned what he wanted to do. Took a final deep breath, a last goodbye to his old life, and flipped the switch.

Martha. Everywhere. Smiling, running, laughing, bleeding, angry, happy, sad, jealous, puzzled and triumphant. Every look, every word, every gesture surged up in his mind and threatened to overwhelm him. He fought to keep control, sort through the memories. A little tweak here, a little tweak there… snip after snip of feelings he made, tucking them in spaced out, random pockets. He set triggers to bring them to the surface at appropriate times, left mental keys hidden for him to find later that would ultimately unlock the door to the room he was creating. The room of loving Martha Jones.

She would have the love from him she'd wanted and he had at times wished he could give her. They would have their baby and their future. He would have another Time Lord. And he wouldn't have to worry about a companion wanting to leave him. Martha would stay with him. And on the TARDIS, time passed differently. She would age very slowly and be by his side for a long, long time. He'd be careful in a way he'd never been before to stay in this incarnation. For her, the baby, their life together.

But she could never know he had altered his mind to fall in love with her, and he never wanted to deliberately lie to her. And that was why, when it was finished, he wouldn't even remember he had ever done this.

It was a painful process, but Martha was too far away to hear his screams. She lay in her old bed, dreaming of the future he was changing himself to create.

Martha glanced up at him, nervous despite being a doctor and him being a thousand doctors. He smiled at her, squeezing her hand reassuringly. She nodded and settled back against the pillows, breathing deep and slow, remembering everything.

They had done everything he'd offered her and then some. There were walks in fields, visits to museums on other worlds, forests with birds that sang in harmony. It went on for months, the vacation turning into something more like a sabbatical. And over that time they'd grown closer as friends, healing from what had happened to them. Not forgetting, not denying. Healing.

It was about a month into it the first time it happened. The Doctor went out while she was still in bed and picked her dozens of bright red flowers. She smiled, and he smiled, and he left to get some vases, but not before Martha had the odd feeling that he'd wanted to kiss her.

The second thing, weeks later, was more definite. While they were out at a café, a man flirted with her as she went to get another drink. The Doctor appeared at her side in about ten seconds, putting an arm around her and giving the man a look that would've intimidated a saber-toothed tiger. That caused an argument in the TARDIS.

"You're not my boyfriend, remember?" she asked, wishing she could slap herself the second the words came out of her mouth.

He gave her a dark, wild look and stormed off. She sat in confusion for an hour. What was he on about?

An hour later, he waved a white flag with the words "I'm sorry" written on it, and she laughed. He looked apologetic and sheepish and he hugged her and the hug lasted longer than it ever had.

Three months later they were swimming in a pool on a planet where the water looked like crushed emeralds. He waded over to the shallow end where she was sitting on the steps, and he looked at her for a long moment and right as she was about to ask what was wrong, he kissed her.

This led to: 1. Her kissing him back 2. Her freaking out. 3. A huge discussion. 4. Him telling her he thought he loved her. 5. Her **really** freaking out. 6. More discussion. 7. Things getting intense, and 8. More kissing.

She went back to Earth… long enough to end the engagement with Tom and tell UNIT she would be MIA for a while.

She held him back, though. She was afraid to trust his feelings. And hers. He didn't press her. He just kept on being the Doctor and doing sweet things. And stealing kisses.

Two more months passed. They ran into some trouble on a planet (as usual) and the Doctor saved the day with her help (as usual). In the process she got hurt (not badly) and he freaked out (very badly). It was one of the rare times she had seen him cry. That night, back on the TARDIS, she pulled him into her room and her bed. They made love, forging a new memory of them being together, the fire of passion burning the forced encounter of the past away. They slept in each other's arms, and when they woke up he looked at her.

"I love you, Martha Jones. And I don't care how long you make me wait or how many times you want me to prove it. I will do whatever—"

"I love you too," she said softly.

He stopped. "You do?"

She nodded.

He grinned. And she grinned. And except for the physical necessities they didn't get out of bed for the entire day.

She couldn't remember when she made the decision exactly. It was a gradual thing. But one day, while standing on a beach looking at a sunset, she whispered: "let's have our baby."

And his smile was so bright it put out the sun.

Then it was back to Earth again, to tell Jack and Sarah Jane and Martha's family and UNIT and by the time it was finished it felt like forever had passed and she told him "Now I've got an idea of what it's like for you" and he just laughed.

And here she was, close to nine months later, alternating glancing at him with watching the monitors she'd insisted on hooking up. She didn't care **how** good of a doctor he was, or she was, for that matter. Nor did she care about how it was done on other planets. She wanted monitors and an epidural, thank you very much. He let her squeeze his hand and didn't stop even when she pressed so hard he winced. He kept talking to her, telling her stories, distracting her as much as he could until her contractions told them it was time.

He moved to her feet, still smiling at her, encouraging her without words. And she desperately needed that, because as she felt the baby pushing its way towards the outside world she was in a bit of pain and quite scared. She pushed, and screamed, and pushed and screamed more, and every time she thought she couldn't go on he said: "Martha! You can DO this! Come on!"

And somehow she did, and her final roar mingled with a baby's cry.

The Doctor held it carefully, working with deft, steady hands to cut the cord, then wrapped it in Martha's own baby blanket, his face shining with joy. "It's a boy," he breathed. "A boy!"

He brought their son to her, perching carefully beside her on the bed as she held him. Martha started to cry as she gazed at their son's ruddy face. "He's beautiful!"

"He's ginger! Aww! I KNEW it! I KNEW he'd get the ginger!" The Doctor exclaimed, half admiring, half envious.

Martha could only laugh. "Hello there, little boy," she said softly. "I'm your mum. And this is your dad."

The baby stopped crying and stared at her, and Martha would have sworn it understood something if she didn't know it wasn't possible. "Doctor, look. He's got brown eyes," she said in wonder.

"Mmm. Just like his mum's," he said, smiling at her.

She returned the smile, then hesitantly asked: "does he… is he…"

"Well, let's just find out, shall we?" the Doctor asked breezily, lifting their son back up and moving him to a small cloth-covered table. He gently cleaned him up, making nonsense cooing noises the whole time (Martha couldn't stop herself from laughing) and then took out his stethoscope, resting it gently against the baby's skin. He moved it, listening intently, while Martha held her breath. He looked up at her and beamed again.

"Two hearts. Two very healthy-sounding hearts."

She laughed in joy and relief, and father and son returned to her side. He handed the baby back to her and the three of them settled on the bed. "We'll have to choose a name. I still think it was crazy not to pick some before now," she said, mock glaring at him.

"It's tradition," the Doctor said with a sniff.

"Ho, you're a traditionalist now, are you?" she retorted.

He ignored her comment, idly stroking one of the baby's hands. "I'd like to call him… Adric."

"Adric?" Martha raised her eyebrows. "Is that name special?"

He nodded. "But if you don't like it…"

"Adric," Martha said slowly. "It's not bad. Can his middle name be Clive?"

"Adric Clive,' the Doctor mused. "I think that's a fine name, Martha Jones."

"Good. Then tell me who Adric is," she said quietly.

He drew a sharp breath, swallowed and slowly nodded. And he began to tell her a story from a long time ago, both of them holding and stroking the baby, fingers and minds and hearts touching, connected by love and hope.


End file.
